


Who Am I?

by Bluesynews



Category: Marvel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-03-07 10:06:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18871024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluesynews/pseuds/Bluesynews
Summary: When a very sleep deprived Clint Barton leaves the Stark Towers early to get sleep, he sees an unconscious Scott and decides to call an ambulance, also making the stupid decisions of wanting to learn more about Scott.





	1. Chapter 1

"AHHH!" was all that Scott could get out as he felt yellowjacket drop him, he took a look it was a far way down. He quickly called for his trustworthy ant, Antony. " _phew_ " he thought as he felt Antony pick him up and put him to the ground safely. Scott didn't have much time to calm down as he got picked up by a normal size Yellowjacket. "Woah, Woah Woah!" he shouted, quickly thinking Scott remembered that he could and should turn back to his normal size again. Luckily Scott was able to turn back to his own size but not before he was roughly thrown and bashed into a rock. He felt it split his head, not being able to move another rock was bashed into his skull, causing the skin to split apart while blood seemed to flow from his head like a river. Yellowjacket seemed to not stop as he continued to bash the rock into Scott's skull. Darren only stopped after Scott fell into an unconscious state and fly away.

Clint Barton is not a person who could easily survive being awake without coffee or enough sleep. Yet here he is, sitting through a meeting at the avenger towers waiting for Tony to finish his speech about how the Avengers are going to take a break from fighting crime, to go home and spend some missed out time with their family, friends and loved ones. Clint could barely pay attention to the rest of the words Tony were saying to them, he was too sleep deprived. He didn't get any sleep the past few days because he was too busy doing research on a new gang that just made their presence known last week.

Clint couldn't stay awake for any much longer, his eyes started to close until Tony banged his fist on the table right next to Clint, springing wide awake.

"not enough sleep buddy?" Tony's voice suddenly boomed, making Clint's head hurt.

"uhh, yeah..." Clint said trailing off, "I think I'm gonna head off back to my apartment to sleep."

“Okay, you should at least get some sleep Clint, you look like absolute shit,” Tony told him.

“I feel like it too.” was all Clint could say as he turned to walk back to his apartment.

It was nice and warm outside to Clint, the sun was shining in just the correct area. He steadily started to walk back to his apartment, eyes drooping, making it seem that at any moment he could fall asleep and stay there. Being tired was a bitch, but Clint couldn't do a thing about it, it was his fault after all. He just had to suffer the outcome of it all.

Slowly turning the corner past a nearby Starbucks shop, he saw the commotion of a crowd. Honestly, he was too tired to even care about why the crowd was there anyway. ' _Fuck it_ ' he thought, he was an Avenger, after all, he had to check it out anyway. Walking closer to the crowd he realized that it had to be bad, people were screaming for an ambulance. This whole crowd was a surprise to him. He lived in New York, many people didn't care about things like this, even the police didn't care, they left all the problems to the Avengers.

Clint squeezed his way through the crowd, looking for the center. He finally managed to find the problem, there was a man on the ground, rubble all around him, a broken helmet near his head. The man had a full head of brown/black hair and a little bit of stubble on his pale face. Clint saw the blood from his forehead gushing down like a river. Clint looked at the guy's suit. It looked like an old dirty motorcycle suit. He saw the blood on the suit too. Clint walked closer to the body, checking for a pulse, but as he went down to check the man, he saw a colony of ants surround the man's body.

He finally put his fingers near the man's pulse feeling the faint of a heart-beat. Pulling out his phone he called an ambulance. They were coming in 15 minutes, all he needed to do was do CPR on the body. ' _Make sure he doesn't die_ ' Clint kept on reminding himself, he didn't want to risk losing an innocent civilian. Hawkeye wasn't an Avenger just so he can have someone die.

Doing his best to keep the man alive the ambulance finally came, taking the man with them. Clint started to walk away until one of the paramedics came to talk to him.

" **Do you know this man?** " One of them asked, with a raspy voice.

"No," Clint told them, "but I would like to learn more about him."

" **Ahh, I see** ," the paramedic told him then walked away, but a few seconds coming back to talk to Clint some more.

" **But it turns out that he doesn't have any family member for us to communicate to, do you think that we could communicate with you?** "

Clint had to think about that option, for a few seconds. ' _If I give them my information, they could tell me who he is and I could have all the information about him that I please. Or if I say no, I won't have to give them my information and I could forget about this man and have him be just another person I saved._  He weighed each of his options carefully, picking the first one, he did feel intrigued to know why he found that man like that.

"Yes," He told the paramedic, "I would like to be informed about him."

" **Just put your information here and we will tell you everything we can**." The paramedic handed Clint a piece of paper to write his information down.

Clint signed the paper and headed off to go home, he could finally get to sleep and dwell on his decisions when is more awake.

Reaching the door to his apartment, he was greeted with the formality of emptiness of the place. Kate Bishop has left the apartment some time ago, something about being pissed at Clint for a reason that is beyond him. Lucky, his beloved Pizza Dog, has run off a week ago. Clint couldn't find him anywhere. He threw himself face first onto his bed, closing his eyes and trying to let sleep take over him, he always thought too much before he went to sleep. His brain finally calmed down and slipped into the sweet relief of sleep, he liked it that way.


	2. Chapter 2

Waking up wasn't one of Clint's strong suits, so when his alarm clock blared at him to get up for the day, he groaned miserably. He sat up out of his bed and looked at the time. 9:00 am,  _ 'how long did I sleep?'  _ he thought,  _ reluctantly _ shrugging off the warm comfort of his blanket. Instantly shivering from the cold he got met with. Getting up and walking over to get a new pair of clothes on. He pulled out a plain purple shirt and a pair of black shorts. He realized that he needed to get to the towers in 30 minutes.

He walked over to his coffee machine and made plain black coffee. Drinking it from the pot when he was done brewing it. Clint hated the bitter taste of it, but he was addicted to coffee. Gulping down the bitter taste of the liquid, he instantly regretted as the hotness of the drink burnt his throat making tears sting in his eyes. Finishing his coffee, he put the pot in the sink and wandered over to his cabinet to find something to eat. All

he saw was bread and dog food (which made him frown, missing Lucky.)He grabbed the bread out of the cabinet and popped it in the toaster, walking over to his fridge to look for butter. Finding only milk and spoiled pizza, he settles for just toasted bread. He didn't eat much these days, the only time he does is when Tony buys take-out of orders pizza on Friday's. He waited for the toaster to pop, throwing out the dog food while doing so, he didn't throw it out, more like give it to his new neighbor who had an old Saint Bernard.

Clint goes over to his toast, bites into it and heads out for the day. He didn't have a car, it was in the shop, so he just walks where ever he needs to. Clutching his bow close to him, Clint sees an old lady getting attacked by a gang. Doing the only thing he knew he had to do, he stepped and readied his bow.

"You will let her go," Clint said, threateningly.

"And what if we don't? I'm not scared of a dude with a fake bow." one of the members, who Clint assumes is the leader.

"You don't wanna know," Clint told him, "You have three seconds to leave or I will shoot, and believe me, I never miss."

The gang stepped away from the lady, letting her run away into safety, turning to Clint. They have knives on them, well some also had tiny daggers. The leader did a hand movement to his gang and they all start trying to stab Clint, he quickly got out of their grasps as he shot all of them, hitting an area which he knows won't kill them.

"ha... you missed," one of the members said to him, "you didn't kill any of us."

"Who said I was aiming to kill you?" Clint said as he walked away, continuing on his path to the Avenger's Tower. Feeling much more refreshed than the previous day. He saw the towers and started to run. Once he got to the doors, he was sweating from the blazing sun and running. ' _ God, I am so out of shape, I shouldn't be sweating from running a few blocks.  _ ' he thought to himself, going up the elevators to get to the kitchen.

Once he got to the kitchen, he poured himself a giant cup of water and gulped the drink down. Remembering why he had to get to the towers on time, he headed towards Stark's conference room.

Pulling out a chair, he sat next to Natasha, listening while Tony goes on about something. A few minutes later Clint's phone started to ring. He quickly excused himself and went to a different room to answer the phone. 

"Hello?" Clint stated.

"is this Clint Barton?" came the reply of a young lady.

"Yes, this is him speaking," he told her.

"ah yes okay, I called you to inform you of our latest patient."

Clint was intrigued, what have they learned about the man he 'saved' yesterday. Has he died? Or is he awake and wanting to speak to Clint, assuming that they told him who saved his life?

"What about him?" Clint asked her.

"We found out some out information about him. His name is 'Scott Edwards Harris Lang', he is in his twenties. He doesn't have any close family, he isn't awake yet, would you like us to inform you when he does?" she asked.

"I would like that, a lot," Clint replied, "I would like to know all the information you can give me." 

"Well give you all we can," she said, hanging up the phone.

Clint went back to the conference room, pretending to listen to the rest of what Tony was saying. Once the meeting was over, Clint sat on the couch, turning on a crappy TV show. He didn't bother reading the show's name. 

Clint felt himself being startled awake when Natasha sat next to him, a newspaper in hand.

"Look at this," she said, stuffing the paper in his face.

"What about it?" he said taking the paper.

"Read it, Barton," Natasha demanded.

"Ugh, fine," he said looking at the paper.

Looking at the newspaper the headline stuck out to him.

' **LOCAL HERO SAVES UNCONSCIOUS MAN** ' 

' _Aw, shit_ ' he thought, reading further.

'We all have our fair share of accidents, falling off of stairs, running into walls or even tripping. But when this man was found on the ground, unconscious, who else to call than your local hero? Witnesses say that the hero seems to have come out of nowhere, rushing into action, like having an alarm whenever someone is in danger. Other witnesses claim that someone must have called him into action. "It just doesn't make sense," witness Robert Downey Jr. claims, "Someone had to have called him, out of all the crime in New York, this accident gets his attention? That only happens in the movies, unless this guy is an Avenger." Officials say that the victim is in good hands, getting the help he needs.' Clint finished the article, seeing a picture of himself below, helping the paramedics find Scott.

"Um... Yea." was all he could say to Natasha. 

"Nice job Clint, when was this?" she asked him.

"Just yesterday, after I left to go home," he informed her.

"Weren't you tired?" she clarified.

"Yes, pretty much, but the crowd was unavoidable, I just needed to know what was going on," he answered.

"Yea, I can understand. It's hard being a hero without wanting to help people," she told him, "do you know the guy's name? Or how old he is?" she questioned him.

"I know that his name is Scott Lang and that he is young. We're still waiting for him to wake up," he told her honestly. 

"Well, let's just hope he wakes up," she shared with him, starting to walk out the door, turning around and saying "tell me everything!"

"WILL DO!" he called to her.

Clint looked back at the TV, wondering if he should go visit Scott when he wakes up.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter, couldn't figure out what to write for Scott's part.

Muffled sound surrounded him, where was he? How did he get here? Many thoughts traveled through Scott's mind, but one important one. Who he is? He didn't remember anything, he didn't know anything. Trying to think about what happened, his mind only became blank, giving him a headache. His eyes focused on the bright fluorescent lights of the strange room hurt his eye. He instantly closed his eyes taking in the sounds around him.

Hearing a soft air conditioner in the room, he took in the sound of his heartbeat. He didn't remember what the place he was in, was called, or rather, he didn't know. Finally opening his eyes he saw white walls and bright fluorescent lights. He analyzed the bed around him, taking in the white bed sheets and the white blankets.

He silently waited for someone to come into the room, hating the loneliness. Maybe he could call someone? But the question is who? He couldn't remember who anyone is, let alone himself.  He was mildly freaking out by the lack of memory. Why couldn't he remember something? He hated it, hated not knowing anything.

Waiting for someone to come in, if anyone was here, Scott tried to remember what his name was. ' _Why don't I know??????_ ' was the consent question popping in his head. Giving up on himself, he looked around a bit more and found a phone. His phone, maybe? He didn't know. Turning on the phone, he was upset to see that the phone had a password. After trying a few combinations, he threw the phone aside and sighed, a long sigh.

After a few more minutes, someone came into his room, reminding him of a... he forgot, but he knew that they meant good intentions. They or I mean he, walked over to Scott with a smile. He then began to speak.

"Hello Scott, my name is Dr. Brock, to my understanding, you got sent here after an accident. Can you tell me what happened, or what you remember?" He said, in a calming tone.

Scott's heart dropped, he honestly couldn't remember anything, nervously answered, "Uhh... hi? I can't seem to remember anything besides a few little things, I can't even remember my name. You said it was Scott, was it?"

"Mhm, you see to have shown a few symptoms of amnesia, but we wouldn't know that until we run a few tests, out of the few things you remember, do you happen to know a man by the name of Clint Barton?"

"Clint Barton? No, I can't remember if I know him or not."

"Anyway he found you in between a rock and a few walls. You were sent here right away. You were asleep for a whole day and half of this one."

"... Okay..."

"I'll check in on you in a few minutes, we are gonna run only a few tests to see how well your brain is doing, and determine how well you need to say in here." he finished walking out of the room.

Scott just waited in his room letting the thought of Clint Barton sink into his mind, he wanted to meet this guy and figure out if he was apart of Scott's family.

After a few minutes of trying to remember something about Clint, he gave up. Did he ever know him? Probably not, but he couldn't come to that since he couldn't remember shit. Realizing that he couldn't do much on his phone because of it being locked. He noticed a T.V in his room and started looking for a remote, once he couldn't find one he laid back in defeat.

He saw a simple children's chapter book in the corner of the bedside table next to him. Deciding that he didn't care what kind the book was, he started reading. A few hours later Dr. Brock came in and told him that they need to get him a head scan, to see what was wrong with him.

They took him into a nice white room with a machine, he couldn't recall what it was but he could tell it was like a brain scanner.

"Just get on the bed, we will move you into the scanner, get some scans done and then we will send you back to your room."

"Okay," Scott replies, listening to every direction the doctor told him.

He finished the scans and walked back to his room, picking up an old newspaper about a kid who was missing but found dead. At least it gave him something to do. He noticed a small black remote on his bed, he picked it up turning on some drama reality T.V show. He managed to somehow block out the noise of the show and go to sleep

He slipped into a nice sleep, thinking of who he was and how he was in the hospital. A little later he woke up to a loud honk of a car outside his room, he noticed that the T.V was off and some food next to him. He picked up the sandwich and took a bite of it. It was a simple turkey sandwich with lettuce, cheese, and tomatoes. He didn't mind the taste much so he finished the sandwich. He figured he was hungry and finished his dinner.

Finding out that he couldn't go back to sleep, he turned on the T.V watching a late night show that was on. After a few hours of watching T.V, he got tired and closed his eyes. Letting sleep quietly guide him to a new day. Maybe then he could find out what new things and learn about his past.


End file.
